


Kinktober 14

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: Kinktober 2019 [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Dean Winchester, Clone-a-Willy, Cunnilingus, D/s dynamic, Dean is fucked by his own cock, F/M, Femdom, Fucking Machine, Kinktober 2019, NSFW, Smut, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Sub!Dean, Submissive Dean Winchester, handjob, like-at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21106103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: She has a surprise for Dean. He likes it. A lot.





	Kinktober 14

**Author's Note:**

> Day 14 of Kinktober with prompt Fucking Machine. The machine is like [this one](https://www.extremerestraints.com/stockade-with-chest-pad-and-fucking-rod.html), except with a motor. I apologize for nothing.

After an evening of serious conversation, they had both gone to sleep feeling a bit emotionally drained. As usual, she woke up before Dean. This morning though, she needed the time before he woke up to prepare her next surprise for him. She had a feeling that when he signed off on this list item, he imagined that she would be on the receiving end. Smirking to herself, she set the duffel on the floor in the living room. 

She had to move a couple of pieces of furniture aside to make room, but the instructions were easy enough to follow. When she was done, there were no extra parts and everything seemed sturdy enough. She plugged it in and started it up for just a moment, to check that it worked, which it appeared to do. Her work done, she popped some bacon in a frying pan, then started the coffee. 

Dean grumbled when she woke him up, at least until he smelled the coffee and bacon. His pleased grin when he saw the breakfast tray warmed her heart and they spent far too long in bed enjoying each others’ company over coffee and breakfast. When it was all gone though, she shooed him into the bathroom to take a shower. She might have joined him if not for the surprise downstairs. Instead, she just had a quick wash before pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. She would shower later.

After a ridiculously long time, Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing out behind him. She took a moment to admire the way he looked in nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his hips. When he went to grab clean clothes, she stopped him.

“Not yet. I’ve got a surprise downstairs. C’mon. I think you’ll like it,” she smirked and led the way down the stairs, Dean following.

She turned to watch his expression when he saw the contraption she had spent the morning assembling. His eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline, eyes going wide.

“What...in the...hell…,” he drawled, slowly walking around it.

She grinned at the mix of emotions on his face. He was clearly apprehensive, but there was definitely curiosity there as well.

“You feel up to it? After yesterday, I mean.” She watched him closely while she waited for his response.

“Uhm…,” he stalled while he poked at the machine. 

She could see the hesitation and she knew exactly what it was about. Ever since his time in Hell, metal shackles and chains tended to bring those memories back. This thing had been a gamble, but she still hoped she might talk him through it, with some patience.

“Listen, if you don’t want to, we won’t do it,” she assured him. “Just like with everything else on the list.”

Dean glanced at her, catching her earnest look. He drew a finger along the top of the metal ring that would go around the neck, then boldly hefted the dildo. It was the same one from the day before, a perfect replica of his own cock. He shook his head, possibly regretting ever getting her that particular item. Finally, he shrugged and gave her a lop-sided smirk.

“What the hell, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” she grinned back. “C’ mere then, on your knees,” she told him, pointing at the floor in front of her.

Dean rolled his eyes while he got on his knees, probably thinking that she would miss it while his head was bowed. She tisked at him and gave his hair a little tug.

“Stow the attitude, pet. Unless you want to get spanked?” She raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

“Sorry,” Dean responded, although still with a tone of cheeky defiance.

She tightened the grip on his hair and tugged harder, pulling his head back and forcing him to look at her.

“Are you?” She probed.

All of Dean’s smartass attitude seemed to melt out of him in response to her manner.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise,” he hurried to assure her, his eyes sincere.

“That’s better,” she replied, loosening her grip and smoothing her fingers through his hair.

She walked over next to the machine and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to come over. He twitched before getting on hands and knees and crawling over to her. Directing him with gentle touches of her hands until he was in position, she locked the restraints around his wrists, ankles, and neck as she did. Making sure nothing was pinching him and his chest was centered on the pad, she stood up and walked in front of him.

“You good?” She ran her fingers through his hair again while she checked in.

“Not sure yet,” was Dean’s laconic response.

His muscles tensed while he tested the restraints, finding them sturdy enough to hold him. She saw the sweat break out on his body, heard his breathing speed up, and crouched down in front of him, her hands cradling his face and forcing him to look into her eyes.

“Shh, I’ve got you, Dean. Breathe. You’re safe. You’re good.” She soothed him with her voice and watched the beginnings of panic melt away.

“Thank you,” Dean whispered, turning his head and placing a kiss on her palm. 

“Trust me, pet. I’ll take care of you.” She gave him a little smile which he returned. “You ready now?”

Dean took a deep breath and nodded, then added a “yes, ma’am” because he knew she preferred verbal responses. Placing a soft kiss on his forehead, she stood up and walked behind him, picking up the lube from where she had left it on the coffee table. Having just been pegged the day before, Dean needed little enough prep. She took her time anyway, wanting to make it feel good for him. She worked her fingers in his ass until he was a squirming mess, his cock leaking pre-come into a puddle on the towel beneath him; she had no intention of staining the rug.

One hand still working three fingers in and out of Dean, she used her other to lube up the dildo until it was slick and glistening wetly. When she pulled her fingers from Dean, he whined disappointedly. The sound was cut short when he felt the tip of the silicone cock at his entrance. She held it in place, the material soft enough that it would bend under its own weight otherwise. Carefully, so as not to get too much lube on the controls, she flipped the switch to start the motor and the dildo pushed into Dean’s hole slowly but inexorably.

He groaned at the feeling, not only the dildo pushing inside him but the feeling of being helpless and at her mercy; held still by the metal restraints and unable to move away from the intrusion. His skin was already covered with a sheen of sweat, his head hanging down between his shoulders, muscles flexing in his arms, shoulders, back. 

By the time the dildo had worked its way all the way inside him, a string of curses fell from Dean’s lips. She set the machine to slow, watching as it pumped the dildo into and out of Dean’s ass. The touch of her hand on his lower back made him flinch, unprepared as he was for it, focused on the feeling of being implacably fucked by a machine. She stroked her hands up his back, moving to crouch in front of him.

Cradling his face in her hands as before, she kissed his lips, her tongue licking into his mouth, swallowing his moans and sighs of pleasure. 

“Tell me what it feels like, Dean,” she prompted him, her lips against his ear.

“Ugh, fuck, good...it feels good...so full…,” Dean panted, almost in time with the thrusts.

“Does it feel the same as when I did it?” She was genuinely curious.

“No...no it’s different...uhhh…,” Dean clearly was having trouble finding the words.

She kissed him again, then pulled over a footstool that was just the right height. Peeling her jeans off, she sat in front of Dean, spreading her legs and dragging her fingers through her pubic hair. Her pussy seemed to unfold in front of Dean, her scent enveloping him. Her folds glistened with slick, showing him just how affected she was by the sight of him, the sounds he was making. She scooted the stool closer until he could reach her with his tongue, finally tasting her. She could see the neck restraint - the collar - pushing against his throat when he reached for her. Turning a knob on the control unit, she increased the speed of the thrusts and watched Dean tremble. The arm on the machine that held the dildo was moving perhaps a little faster than she had fucked him the day before. She imagined the silicone cock dragging over Dean’s prostate with each thrust, imagined what it might feel like.

Then she was too preoccupied with the feeling of Dean’s tongue on her pussy. Even without his hands, he was able to work magic. His lips locked around her clit, sucking while he flicked the tip of his tongue over it. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting him push her toward her release. Briefly, she wondered if he would be able to come like this - being fucked by a machine while eating her out. Then she stopped wondering, her thighs clamping down around his head, her fingers gripping his hair tightly, holding him in place while she shook with her release. 

When she finally let him go, his face was soaked with her juices, glistening lips parted on panting breaths. His body trembled with need and she took pity on him. Straddling his broad shoulders, she reached beneath him and wrapped lubed fingers around his leaking cock. He babbled curses at the feeling, kept on edge by the machine. Stroking him in time with the machine’s thrusts, she knew he could feel her wet heat pressed against his skin. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna come!” Dean groaned loudly, every muscle in his body trembling with tension.

“Do it, pet,” she gave him permission and encouraged him at the same time.

With a hoarse shout, Dean shot his load onto the towel beneath him, his body shaking so hard he managed to move the machine even with the weight of the both of them on it. She grabbed the control unit and turned the motor off, waiting for the thrusts to slow, then stop completely. Quick fingers unlocked the small padlocks, setting Dean free of the restraints and he rolled off the chest pad onto the plush rug, panting and sweaty.

She sat down and pulled his head into her lap, stroking his hair gently, her other hand rubbing his back soothingly. Dean almost purred under her touch, thoroughly content.


End file.
